Legends in the Mist
by Nallasariel the Weeper
Summary: A collection of tragic, humorous, and otherwise thought-inducing 'The Lord of the Rings' poetry and ballads. Features Arwen, Elrond, Celebrían, Thranduil, SamRosie, and plenty of Elves-are-leaving-Middle-earth angst.
1. What of the Ebon Lie?

What of the Ebon Lie?

* * *

The winds shall sigh,  
The shadows will moan,  
But what of the Ebon Lie?  
  
The eagles soar,  
The nightingale laments,  
Have all forgotten the ancient lore?  
  
The narcissus fawns,  
The widows weep,  
Yet the Elves still sorrow on.  
  
The ships stopped sailing to distant shores,  
All joy has fled away,  
Is it living, anymore?  
  
The wise forgot,  
Dreams disappeared,  
Why did we stay among your lot?  
  
Sorrow reigns,  
Death perseveres,  
What of our tears like steady rains?  
  
Hope dies,  
Love fades,  
Yet still we live in Ebon Lies.  
  
Sleep beckons,  
Oblivion too,  
What do your people reckon?  
  
Live on,  
Laugh freely,  
Be like the carefree fawn.  
  
Sing gay,  
Mean little,  
Is that truly the human way?  
  
Die young,  
Grieve none,  
From Sorrow do you run?  
  
Deceive all,  
Hide always,  
From her silver hall?  
  
Embrace it,  
Be it,  
Sorrow not star-lit.  
  
Grieve  
Sorrow  
It is the Elven way  
  
Darkness may yet depart,  
Shadows may yet weaken,  
Nevermore will we laugh and smile,  
For we are now the Ebon Lie.

* * *

A/N: I sincerely doubt any of you have ever heard of an "Ebon Lie", but in  
Old English it was a lie produced by ourselves, so we could hide from the  
realities of the world.

The other thing that probably confused you was 'The Narcissus fawns'. Any half-rate scholar in Greek Mythology would tell you that once, an incredibly beautiful, but vain, boy was born. He broke every maiden's heart, believing himself to be far beyond the beauty of Mortals, and thus they were unworthy of his attention. Then, he saw his reflection in a pool of water, and fell in love with it. He couldn't stand to part from his newfound love, so he withered away, and died by his reflection in the pool. The Narcissus flower is beautiful, and grows where it overhangs the water. The Greeks thought this was out of vanity, like the boy, so the flower could look at itself day and night. Thus the name. So, when a 'Narcissus Fawns', it means that it is admiring itself.

Namárië,

Nallasariel the Weeper


	2. Arwen Alone

Arwen Alone

* * *

Of Silver lies,  
Of Ebony tears,  
Of people dieing beneath the skies,  
Of sorrowing, endless fears.  
  
Scarlet blood upon the floor,  
Death upon her throne,  
Never to go to the Western Shore,  
Arwen Undomiel is alone.  
  
Love is gone,  
Hope has died,  
Sorrow has dawn'd,  
But to this world she's tied.  
  
The King has failed,  
Her children weep,  
Yet why has nothing ailed  
Minas Tirith, the Gondor Keep?  
  
Life goes on,  
Old wounds mend,  
And her life still has drawn,  
To a heart-broken end.  
  
She cannot live without her Estel,  
Nor can she see the ocean's foam,  
She will die, like the Kestrel,  
Upon her heart's true home.  
  
The Land of the Golden Trees calls,  
For its last true daughter.  
What will she say when shadow falls,  
In the realm of Laurelindomier?  
  
She lays upon Cerin Amroth,  
Weeping for what she's lost,  
As the moon calls to the flitting moth,  
She slips into the Halls of Mandos.  
  
Eternity awaits

* * *

A/N: Yes, I'm aware that Aragorn didn't die a bloody death. The 'scarlet blood upon the floor/Death upon her throne' refers to all those that have died in service to those that sat upon it.

'Laurelindomier' translates (Almost) the same as 'Laurelindorinan'.

For the record, I am not fond of Arwen. Quite the opposite. The only reason I write so much about her is that she's such a tragic figure. If you want to argue with that, I would be more then happy to.

Namárië,

Nallasariel the Weeper


	3. Starless Sky

Starless Sky

_A/N: Written for the poetry contest at __Parma__ Eruseen._

* * *

Elrond looked away from the sighing shore,

A tear threatening to fall.

Why did the Gray Ships have to soar,

From the Havens, from his hall?

Once, Celebrían sat upon her throne,

And they had loved each other as no other.

But when the seeds of poison were sown,

She had left him, without wife, without brother.

Why was it that all he loved had to die,

To follow the mortal path, not that of the Eldar?

None of them would sing beneath the sky,

Yet he would linger on, his grief never to mar.

The tear slipped down his face.

For immortality had a cruel cost.

Yet Arwen had chosen the mortal race,

Why should he cry for one that's lost?

Keen Elven eyes watched for Valinor,

There he could forget his grief, and end the pain.

He could forget his knowledge, the painful lore,

That had cost him love, like bitter rain.

He closed his eyes, trying not to think,

Yet emotions came anyway, and the tears fell.

Sorrow tearing his heart and hope seeming to sink,

Grief that Arwen would never feel, never tell.

Footsteps tapped across the Gray Ship,

There stood Frodo, without a tear,

The brilliant Evenstar gracing his neck.

He was the one who took her place here.

She had not left him for the Ringbearer,

But for Aragorn, her mortal lover.

And now she would no longer live forever,

And she passed it on to him, his grief's to cover.

Yet the Evenstar jewel was all that would remain.

Shouldn't he have it, a sign of loves lost?

How wrong for it to cause him great pain,

Pain that could be stopped at little cost.

His fists clenched in helpless rage,

For he hated being so helpless, alone.

He had such power, he was wise, a sage,

Yet he could never save his kin, his very own.

_No_ he told himself quietly,

_She shall be happy for all her life,_

_It was her choice._ Yet still he wept silently.

She would never again feel anger or strife.

It was then he felt the pain of his life's call,

The curse of immortality, to live forever.

He would ever feel the pain of all,

And happiness for him? Never.

The days passed across the ocean,

And they came to Valinor

It may have been the land of bliss, of moon and sun,

But he still cried for his loss as the birds soar'd.

He felt that the sun had no right to rise,

That the moon shouldn't shine, that sea should dry,

That all should degenerate to pain and lies,

That all that should be was the starless sky.

When he stepped upon the Golden Shore,

He saw Celebrían, fairer then ever.

He wept anew, and embraced her tightly

And he felt hope blossom and darkness sever.

Days from darkness, he looked towards the East,

With Celebrían in his arms he looked to the Sea.

In Eldamar, all wounds would heal and pain cease.

The sky was full of stars. All was good and free.

* * *

Namárië,

Nallasariel the Weeper


	4. Yellow Corn and Grey Mallorn

Yellow Corn and Grey Mallorn

_A/N: Won the fanfiction challenge at_ Parma Eruseen_. Slight vignette._

* * *

Under a tree in the ground, there lay a Hobbit. He was a busy Hobbit, as you could tell by his quickly writing hands, but a nervous one as well by the beads of sweat on his brow. Urgency was written all over his slightly plump features, making his script greatly resemble chicken scratch. However, after a final untidy flourish, he got up from the ground, brushed a few stray leaves from his pants, and walked across the lane.

He hesitated before the door, sweating openly now. It took several long moments for him to bring up his courage to knock on the door, and when he did it was shaky and weak.

Rosie Cotton answered instantly, a brilliant smile spreading across her beautiful face as she saw the guest.

The nervous Hobbit bit his lip, and thrust the paper at Rosie. One of her fine eyebrows arced with surprise as she saw it, but she took the paper from the trembling Hobbit and read it aloud, stumbling only when the handwriting became unreadable.

_Your hair is like the yellow corn,_

_Your skin is pale like fair _mallorn_,_

_Your cheeks are an apple-red,_

_No crown needs to be on your pretty head._

_Your feet are furry like little mice,_

_Your heart is anything but ice,_

_Your eyes are blue like the shining sea,_

_Rosie; will you marry me?_

Rosie looked up from the paper, astonishment written all over her just-described face. "I thought the mallyrn were grey, by what you and Master Frodo told me."

The Hobbit bowed his head, wring his hands nervously as he realized his fatal mistake. "Yes, missus Rosie."

Rosie smiled at his panicked expression, and threw her arms around him. "Of course I'll marry you, Samwise Gamgee!"

* * *

Namárië,

Nallasariel the Weeper


	5. No Longer Home

No Longer Home

_A/N: Written for the poetry challenge at __Parma__ Eruseen._ _Inspired by _Into the West_._

* * *

__

What can you see,

On the horizon?

The crest or wave's lee,

As the sun rises?

Why do the white gulls call,

To take me home?

Why must I leave you all,

To death and sorows?

Cursed is immortality,

For it takes me from you.

How I hate this cruel Sea,

That breaks us apart.

Cruel is the Valar!

They say it is a gift to live,

To once more see the Star,

To live in constant bliss.

No amount of happiness,

Can take these memories away.

Watching you fall behind the wave's crest,

Dieing to my eyes.

"Why do you weep?"

Some may ask, and they do not know.

If only it were sleep,

That stains my dreams of peace.

They say all shall be good,

Yet how can they say that?

All these should haves and coulds,

Make me curse my weakness.

For what was it other then,

This weak body that took me away?

I had to go, I couldn't sin,

By dieing in your arms.

I love you, oh how I love you!

You are my daughter, sweet Twilight,

It is only by this cruel rue,

That I flee from these green shores.

It was once I cherished this day,

When I would come to Valinor.

And yet I do not say,

That this is a happy time.

I know, deep within me,

That I shall not see you again.

That you shall not cross this silver Sea,

That you shall die alone.

Come to me! I may cry,

And yet you cannot come.

No matter my tears nor sighs,

You cannot come with me.

Why do the white gulls call,

Across this so great a sea?

Why must laughter come from all,

In this unhappy moment?

Amroth once threw himself deep

Into the water, for his sweet Nimrodel,

But why I cannot take the leap,

I cannot say. I am too proud.

Somewhere, deep within,

I know I shall see Elrond,

Dear Galadriel, my children,

But not you, my twilight daughter.

For you, I could do anything,

But I cannot stay!

Forgive me, and once more sing,

To the stars at twilight.

Valinor is no longer home for me.

My fate is not less cruel.

But what can you see,

On the horizon?

The new sun rises,

The dawn creeps by,

A fresh wind comes,

To blow our sorrows away.

_So sang Celebrían, wife of Elrond, as her Ship passed beyond the Havens. Many heard her words, and yet only Arwen fully understood._

* * *

Namárië,

Nallasariel the Weeper


	6. Undaunted Despair

Undaunted Despair  
  
_

* * *

_  
Call'eth thee to the other shore,  
Where all shall linger evermore?  
Must all set forth to sail the seas,  
To go to the land of the long-dead Trees?  
  
I am a warrior without the battle-lust,  
I am the living blade that shall never rust,  
I am the soul who has no home,  
I am the spirit whose heart shall ever roam.  
  
The ocean has power over me,  
Alas for those who feel the Sea!  
I do not wish to leave these forests,  
Yet I yearn for the sigh of the pale sea-crests.  
  
This need I hate and yet adore,  
This rending of my heart by the sea-shore,  
To stay or go I cannot decide,  
For this I have forever cried.  
  
If I go, I shall forever regret,  
Not seeing the sun once more set,  
Not walking beneath my home, the woods,  
Cursed forever by the 'what ifs?' and coulds.  
  
Ai! Yet this yearning I cannot deny!  
If I stay beneath the starlit sky,  
I shall pine for the sea, and Valinor,  
Death from within my very core.  
  
I look around and see these others,  
These men, these children, these fathers.  
They are happy, but do I wish,  
To be with them and to forever miss?  
  
Without the other I am torn,  
If I stay I face men's cruel scorn,  
And yet, if I go, surely I shall die,  
Without the sight of my moonlit sky?  
  
They say that in Eldamar all things are bliss,  
That sea's sorrow-yearning is but the wind's kiss,  
But how do I know this to be true?  
How do I know that I shall not die too?  
  
I think, at the end of all things,  
I shall never again see the stars as Varda sings,  
I shall be dead of my yearning for both ocean and air,  
I shall be dead of undaunted despair.

* * *

Namárië,

Nallasariel the Weeper 


	7. To Hold a Star

To Hold a Star

_A/N: This is in part inspired by Celebrían's view of her captors in _Finding Celebrían_ and also in part inspired by a few scenes in Cassia's _The Mellon Chronicles_. _

* * *

I feel these bonds upon my hands,  
I feel my skin grinding into the sands,  
I feel your blade cut deep within,  
And I do nothing.  
  
What drives you, oh Nameless One?  
What drove you to hate the moon and sun?  
What made you lust for blood and pain?  
Does nothing of your black heart remain?  
  
The blood flows freely from my body,  
I am dying; and yet the sky is cloudy.  
The stars are hidden from me,  
Can you not wait, wait until I can see?  
  
The mercy of the Orcs is few and far between,  
Your blood is black, your blades are keen,  
You hate all that love star-light,  
But can you not permit me the sky's sight?  
  
I see your hate within the redness,  
And indecision; can you separate from the rest?  
You are not like us, but maybe you understand and see,  
Can you not give me mercy?  
  
My companions are dead beside me, so still,  
You have done the dead; all you want is to kill.  
But you were once Elven, once like us,  
Can you not learn to trust?  
  
Your turn away; there's fear in your eyes,  
You fear my words, these last death-cries,  
Perhaps there is redemption for this shadow,  
And yet, something forces you to say 'No.'  
  
The blade presses deeper, but I am not afraid.  
I have done my task, have not been waylaid.  
You know that you were once good, once of light,  
Before you turned to your darkest night.  
  
Come back, oh nameless one!  
Surely you shall not run?  
You have some good within thee;  
Perhaps one day you'll feel the Sea.  
  
The blade cuts in; my time is over.  
I never saw Varda, never beheld her.  
But perhaps you'll one day see who you are,  
Perhaps one day you'll hold a star.

* * *

Namárië,

Nallasariel the Weeper


	8. Elusive

Elusive

* * *

There is something I see in the dark of the night, 

A spirit that comes forth when the stars are alight,

An innocence that knows not how to fight,

A piper that calls for the dawn's early light.

* * *

I walk out the door to see what is there, 

And I watch in amazement as he skips through the air,

He dances with openness no poet can declare,

For surely nothing could be more fair…

* * *

_Chorus;_

He cares not for death and wants only to live,

He's wild and abstract; not so conclusive,

I just want too touch him but his smile forbids,

He's just… so… elusive…

* * *

His music's mysterious, piercing and fey, 

He heeds not my cries nor what I say,

Nothing can draw him from his pipe-music and make him stay,

For he always disappears with the sun's golden rays.

* * *

His face is so free, so careless, so wild, 

Surely he must be the dark forest's fair child,

For only once have I seen his face become riled,

And that was when I spoke of Avalonnë, his lost home-isle…

_Chorus_

It is always so hard to return from those woods,

For I truly believe that, if I could,

My heart shall forget all these too-human 'should's,

And dance with that piper, and sing with the birds…

* * *

Please escuse the formatting on this. This site can be... annoying... in regard to songs. 

Namárië,

Nallasariel the Weeper


	9. In Shadows

In Shadows

_Written from the __Parma__ Eruseen poetry challenge._

* * *

No light without dark,

No joy without fear,

Yet the silence of sweet larks,

Is grief beyond tears.

For song without silence,

Sun without rain,

Is but meaningless violence,

Bliss without pain.

Few can hold each,

Without breaking in two,

For waves on the beach,

Are like sun on the dew.

They are dawn and twilight,

Shadow and moon,

For pride can be bright,

And sunset too soon.

He stood at her side,

For so many years,

Though hope was denied,

He wiped away her tears.

In shadows he walked,

Silent like Nerdanel,

Their destinies locked,

He stood with Galadriel.

He could have walked away,

He could have saved himself,

But none could gainsay,

When he met the Noldo Elf.

He gave away his soul,

Spilled his life to her,

Through darkness black as coal,

They stayed together.

Though Galadriel was tainted,

Dark with fierce pride,

His heart remained strong; he never fainted,

Betrayal he cried.

She left when the White Shores called,

But Celeborn remained,

He did not beseech, he did not stall;

Silently his heart pained.

No light without gloom,

No diamond without coal,

Cast in shadows too soon,

Tossed aside by dawn's gold.

Celeborn.

* * *

If my interpretation of Galadriel annoys you, please read _Unfinished Tales_. She's a _lot _different in that.

Namárië,

Nallasariel the Weeper


	10. Thranduil's Song

* * *

Thranduil's Song

_Language is a bit modern for tLotR Forgive me._

* * *

My son, my firstborn,

Listen to what I have to say,

When your heart is torn,

And nothing's okay,

Just call and I'll be here for you.

* * *

_Chorus:_

Through sorrow undying,

White gulls' crying,

All hopes falling,

Silver shores calling,

Shadows rising,

No horizon,

I'll be here for you.

* * *

My child, my little one,

Listen close and you will hear,

A promise to my son,

To wipe away his tears;

Just call and I'll be here for you.

* * *

_Chorus:_

Despite sorrow undying,

White gulls' crying,

All hopes falling,

Silver shores calling,

Shadows rising,

No horizon,

I'll be here for you.

* * *

My beloved, my greenleaf,

Someday you will sing this song,

When your child's in grief,

And the nights are long,

Your son will call for you.

* * *

_Chorus:_

In sorrow undying,

White gulls' crying,

All hopes falling,

Silver shores calling,

Shadows rising,

No horizon,

I'll be here for you.

* * *

_Chorus:_

After sorrow undying,

White gulls' crying,

All hopes falling,

Silver shores calling,

Shadows rising,

No horizon,

I'll be here for you.

* * *

Obviously, ickle Leggy-poo never had kids… Or did he?

Namárië,

Nallasariel the Weeper


End file.
